


The Humble Kind

by artifactstorageroom3_archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-26
Updated: 2009-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-13 03:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artifactstorageroom3_archivist/pseuds/artifactstorageroom3_archivist
Summary: Rafe is having a hard time with Blair becoming a detective.





	The Humble Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This was written in response to sentinel_thurs challenge #300 - Hat Trick

I admit it. I’m a little resentful. Okay, a lot resentful. It’s not that I hate Sandburg. I mean, that day we found him in the fountain I was rooting for him to live. And what do you know? The guy made it.

I’m not shy about calling it a miracle, but you get used to them with Ellison around. He’s got some kind of luck. If he was a magician instead of a detective, he could pull a moose out of the hat. Rabbits are for amateurs.

I kid you not; Ellison keeps pulling his bacon out of fires that could consume whole pigs. Not only does he escape from some pretty nasty situations, he comes out in even better shape than he went in. 

I’m not envious of the admiration that gets him. If you want to get out of those kind of scrapes, you have to be in them first, and I’ve had enough of a taste to know that I don’t want to choke down the whole meal even if the dessert is fabulous. If the price for that kind of recognition is being regularly kidnapped, I’m okay with obscurity.

But the thing with Sandburg? That rankles. He’s sitting across the room from me right now making notations on some file. His round, out of style glasses make him the picture of innocence. His uncut, pulled back hair makes him the picture of political privilege. 

He wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Ellison. Any other observer would’ve gotten canned a long time ago for the shit that Sandburg’s gotten into, and that was before we found out that he was a fraud. I mean, really, the guy was telling us he was doing his dissertation on closed societies for years, and then we find out that it’s on some sort of superhero? 

That kind of lie alone should’ve shot up red flags all over the place. But no, not only does Captain Banks overlook that tiny omission, but he ignores the fact that Sandburg faked most of the paper he was actually writing. Then, to rub salt into the wound, he gives the guy a detective’s badge. 

Am I the only one who can connect the dots here? If Sandburg could fake an entire dissertation, what exactly is going to keep him from fabricating evidence? Worse, what if he fabricates evidence and then recants it on the witness stand? In my mind’s eye, I can see mistrials and free criminals wandering the streets of Cascade.  

I’m not the only one who has thought about it, but I’m the only one that brings it up. See, H was actually fond of the guy. They were pals, so he can’t bring himself to think ill of Sandburg. He worries, but he won’t voice that worry.

Rhonda refuses to talk about it at all. Of course, she also refuses to look at Sandburg when he walks by her desk. 

Connor seems to have settled firmly in the Sandburg-Ellison camp. I tried talking to her once, and I thought she was going to rip my balls off. I think that she’s sleeping with one of them, or hell maybe both of them. Connor is a damn smart woman, and she can’t be so blind that she hasn’t figured out that having a fraud on staff is going to kill the credibility of the department. Her loyalty has to be borne out of love of some sort.

Point is, they all know, but I’m the one who finally got up the courage to bring the subject up to Captain Banks. I’ll admit that I’m a hypocrite. I was standing there applauding when he got handed that badge. In my defense, I never thought that it would get through the brass. What harm could a little support, fake though it was, do? It was a good political move at the time. 

Now the situation has gotten serious. I care about my job. I care about this department. I care about this police force. And what did I get for my caring? 

My captain stared at me in silence for about three minutes after I finished calmly explaining my concerns. Then he told me, and I quote, “Rafe, you are entitled to any opinion that you want to have about Sandburg so long as it doesn’t affect your performance. However, based on your conclusions, I feel the need to question your abilities as a detective. Now get out of my office, and go find something more productive to do with your brain than thinking about how Sandburg is going to bring the apocalypse down on the department.”

I should’ve known better than to think that Banks would listen to me. He’s been really tight with Ellison and Sandburg for a while now. There’s no objectivity there. 

“Are you going to help me with this, or am I going to have to drive myself?” Joel’s voice cuts into my thoughts. He twisted his ankle chasing a perp the other day, so he’s just looking for a driver. He doesn’t need my help with the questioning he’s about to go do.

Incidentally, Sandburg chased that perp for five blocks and tackled him. Ellison was proud as a peacock about that. The thought makes me look over at Sandburg. He’s perched on the edge of Ellison’s desk now. Practically in Jim’s lap as is his usual. I swear sometimes that the two of them would like life better if they got surgically attached to each other. Suddenly I can’t stand to see how happy they are in their little world. They’re marring the department that I love, and they don’t care.

“Let me grab my coat,” I tell Joel as I stand up.

Joel must’ve noticed the direction that my eyes had been pointed in because he spares a quick glance over at Ellison’s desk. Sandburg grins and waves at him. Ellison glares at me. 

Joel smiles gently at both of them before turning that same smile in my direction. I haven’t spoken to Joel about the situation. I don’t need to.  Joel’s big on the whole forgiveness thing. He’s one of those guys that joined the force to make the world a better place, and he’s managed to hold on to that. He believes in second chances, and Sandburg gave him his, so he figures he owes the favor back.

I can’t judge the man for that. 

“Let’s go,” I snap tersely as I head out the door trying to pretend that I don’t feel Ellison’s gaze on my back.

We’re two blocks away from the precinct when I realize that Joel hasn’t told me exactly where we’re headed, so I ask him for directions.

“Blair already drove me around this morning. We’re out here for you, my friend,” he calmly replies.

I’d have pulled him over and hit him if it was anybody but Joel.

“I’m not the one you should be having the intervention with,” I inform him as I turn the turn signal on so that I can start driving us back to the station.

“Oh, I think when a man’s ego gets in the way this much, that he needs an intervention.”

“Yeah? Tell Ellison that.”

“I don’t need to tell Jim, that is his partner’s job.”

I try not to scowl at the mention of Sandburg, but twice in a couple of minutes is too much for me. Joel notices. 

“I know that Blair isn’t your favorite person in the world, but do you really think that he deserves this kind of treatment from you?”

I pull the car over to the curb and slam it into park. Great guy or not, I’m not letting Joel unfavorably compare me to a liar and a cheat.

“He…” I begin, but Joel isn’t about to let me talk.

“This isn’t about him. This is about you. The whole department is getting tired of your attitude towards us. Do you think that we’re stupid? Do you think that we somehow lost our collective morality?”

That hurts. I’m proud of my coworkers and the job that they do. “What I can’t believe is that you’re ignoring…”

“What you can’t believe is that Sandburg is a better detective than you are.”

“He’s a FRAUD! An admitted one and I’m not…”

“What you’re not doing is thinking like a detective.”

Now where did I hear that one recently? “Banks put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“Simon didn’t have to put me up to anything, Rafe. I’m here because I don’t want to see you make the mistake of getting on Ellison’s bad side. You know full well he isn’t the one that is going to step over the line, but with the state you’re in, you just might.”

“I wasn’t aware that Jim Ellison was promoted to God.”

“He hasn’t been and neither have you. Did it ever once occur to you that there is a reason that the best and brightest of the Cascade police force aren’t upset that a ‘fraud’ is now one of them? You’re making conclusions like a first year rookie.”

“You’re his friend,” I dismiss with a casual wave of my hand.

“And I’m also your friend. Tell me something, does the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy really keep anybody from knowing if one of their coworkers is a homosexual?”

I frown at him for a moment before I shake my head ‘no.’ I’ll admit that I’m confused about where he’s taking this. He just stares back at me as if willing me to understand what he’s saying. 

Finally he sighs and turns to face the windshield. “Just take us back,” he mutters with a defeated tone in his voice.

It makes me feel like a world class jerk, but I don’t have anything else to offer, so I pull back out into traffic. Joel doesn’t speak to me on the way back. When I see him heading for the elevator, I take the stairs instead. Maybe it makes me a chicken, but I don’t really care at the moment.

“I told him to leave you alone, if it makes you feel any better.” 

I’m not too proud to admit that I almost jump at the sound of Sandburg’s voice echoing on the cement steps.

“I figured that having Simon and Joel disappointed with you on the same day… man, nobody should have to live with that,” he continues as he begins to stroll down to the landing that I’ve paused on. I don’t want to be stuck here with him, but I don’t really want to make it back to my desk either.

“Plus, you know, Jim can be a bear, and he’s so going to be in a pissy mood for a while when Joel gets back. You wouldn’t know it, but he’s a great big old optimist on the inside. He thought for sure that Joel would get through to you. I told them to leave you alone. That you had a right to your feelings, but they just don’t listen.” He ends his sentence with a shrug as he sits down on the steps in front of me.

I’m alone with the subject of my ire, and I can’t bring myself to say anything to him. 

Sandburg smiles sympathetically at me. “It’s okay, you know.”

“I talked to Simon in confidence,” I tell him because Sandburg at least will recognize the fact that Banks shouldn’t have gone around telling everybody my concerns without my approval. And no, I don’t want to recognize the irony of looking for sympathy from the man that I had those apprehensions about.

Sandburg winces. “Sorry about that. Jim’s just a little paranoid about you lately. I told him it’s nothing to worry about, but Jim can be really suspicious. Plus, since the dissertation, he’s been like way protective of me. It’s starting to get annoying, you know? Like I can’t look aftermyself. Like I’m not going to have to defend myself the next time that I get up on the witness stand.”

I stare at him uncomprehendingly. What does it matter if Simon told Jim, and Jim was the one to spread the news around? 

Sandburg watches me for a moment, and it is eerily similar to how Joel was looking at me earlier. Finally he sighs. 

“Look, Rafe, I’m running out of bread crumbs here. Give me a little something to work with, ‘cause it physically hurts to see you this clueless, you know?”

I’ve just been insulted by the fraud, and I don’t even know over what.

“There is a big, heavy door between Simon’s office and the bullpen. It was closed. Simon doesn’t flap his lips to anybody. You do the math,” he finally huffs in exasperation as he bounces to his feet and jogs up the stairs. I’m somehow unsurprised to see the door open before he reaches it. Ellison, of course, is on the other side scowling down at me while he holds the door open for his partner.

Like I said, the man could have made a fortune as a magician. It’s almost like he’s psychic…

Damn. 

It looks like maybe I should be the one considering a different career because I’m seeing pie in my future. The humble kind.

 


End file.
